Spike Lee's iconic 1989 film, 'Do the Right Thing,' takes place on a sweltering day in Brooklyn's Bedford-Stuyvesant neighborhood, where the temperature isn't the only thing heating up. Centered on Mookie (played by Spike Lee), a young Black man working as a pizza delivery guy for Sal’s Famous Pizzeria, the film explores the undercurrents of racial tension that bubble throughout the day.

Dany Aiello plays Sal, the owner of Sal's Famous Pizzeria, who has a wall of fame inside his restaurant. Tension emerges when Buggin' Out, played by Giancarlo Stanton, questions the pizzeria's Wall of Fame, which showcases only Italian American figures. A conflict erupts when Sal destroys Radio Raheem's boom box (portrayed by Bill Nunn).

The neighborhood's growing unease reaches a breaking point when Mookie hurls a trash can through the front window of the restaurant. When police show up, one of the officers chokes Radio Raheem to death.

The climactic scene is a heartbreaking instance of police brutality that forces the community—and the audience—to confront the complexities of racism and justice. In a world that’s not nearly as cut and dried as we often pretend, what does it even mean to do the right thing?

And even if you are able to puzzle out what the right thing to do is, when things get dicey, do you have the courage necessary to do the right thing?

It’s tough to do what you know you should do. And it’s certainly not made any easier when you decide that what needs doing is something God wants you to do.

I think about ol’ Peter. There was a time when he couldn’t be trusted even to know what the right thing was. Remember?

“There’s one of his followers. Right there. Yeah, that guy. I saw him with the outlaw they’re getting ready to string up. What’s his name? Jesus. Right. I saw him with Jesus.”

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about! Jesus. Never heard of him. I’m from Spokane. Just in town for a shower curtain ring convention. You must be thinking of somebody else.”

But then came Pentecost. Remember that? The Holy Spirit descended on the terrified followers of Jesus, and they broke loose from their fear and started living out loud.

Since then, Peter’s been tromping all over Judea, enthused, ready with something to say at every turn. He’s been the center of attention. Big crowds. Lots of conversions. You can’t shut the guy up.

The offerings are beginning to look a bit more respectable. God is moving. Excitement fills everything they do. Peter figures he pretty much has this whole thing figured out.

And then one day, as we find in the beginning of chapter 10, Peter is praying on a roof in Joppa. He gets hungry, and the text says he fell into a trance. “He saw the heavens opened and something like a large sheet coming down, being lowered to the ground by its four corners. In it were all kinds of four-footed creatures and reptiles and birds of the air.”

And a voice says to him, “Get up, Peter; kill and eat.”

And Peter, always the stubborn one, says, “No way! I’ve never eaten anything profane or unclean—and I’m not starting now.”

The voice said, “What God has made clean, you must not call profane.” This happened three times.

Well, of course, we find out that what this vision is speaking about is fixin’ to unfold in the approach of some envoys from a Roman centurion named Cornelius, who wants Peter to come talk to him about God. The problem, of course, is that, on the one hand, Peter is a Jew, and on the other hand, Cornelius is not. Cornelius is a Gentile.

As you may know, Jews and Gentiles didn’t dig fishing worms together. Gentiles weren’t allowed into their country clubs. They didn’t want those Gentiles dating their daughters. And, if you can believe this, they even had separate drinking fountains and everything. No, Peter was brought up in a good home, and he knew not to associate with those people.

As it turns out, Peter eventually understands the vision to mean that God is sending him to the Gentiles. And Peter, foot-dragger and dawdler that he is, says, “If you think I’m going to soil my dead father’s memory by mixing with their kind, you have got another think coming.”

And the voice says, “I made everybody. So there’s only one kind.”